With three days left until the couple should return home, they made their way down the street from the bakery, two bags filled with all the pastries they could afford. Spots of lipids soaked the bottoms of the paper bags, sagging a little under the weight of the food. Some had been made hours ago sitting in the cases to cool, while others were hurriedly made that instant, as there were no more left. Hannah took a scone from her bag and indulged on it, looking to her right and seeing Angus scarfing down a miniature doughnut. 

"So much for a healthy breakfast," Hannah said wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. 

"You're not complain', are ya'?" Some crumbs fell onto his coat and he brushed them off. Hannah shook her head, unable to talk around the scone. 

"Not at all, but if we want strong bones and six packs we're working our way backwards." Angus spit out more than a few crumbs, choking on his food. Hannah clapped him on the back a few times to calm him down, his coughing mixed with laughing. "Are you okay?"

He hit his chest with his fist, trying to cover his mouth from any more food particles falling out. Clearing his throat a few times, he got a hold of himself, and spoke, holding his doughnut away from him before taking another bite. "You're gonna pay for that," he said.

"Why? What was so funny?" Angus shook his head, unable to answer as a loud siren drowned out even his thoughts. Exchanging looks, the two carried their heavy bags, placing their uneaten pastries back inside and walked down the snowy sidewalk while the sirens continued to get louder. Some voices shouted over the commotion, most in French, yet none in English. Two patrol cars parked themselves beside a crowd of gawkers, all straining their necks to see over what happened behind the police tape. 

One of the buildings standing on the corner of the next block was on fire. Black smoke billowed out against the white sky, while flames of oranges and reds poured out of the windows like a dragon's tongue. Hoards of people came rushing out the front door, splitting into two groups as a couple of firemen ran the opposite direction, looking for any people who failed to get out. The building itself was old, some sort of a bank perhaps. Upper windows shattered as a bomb of fire exploded on the third floor. Glass rained on anyone below it, the crowds now struggling to get to the safe side of the police tape. 

A fireman ran out of the building carrying a petite woman in his arms, setting her down as soon as they reached the sidewalk. She stumbled to the street, coughing, streaks of black marking her skin. A few people came to her aid, helping her cross the empty street through the snow, letting her sit down on the curb, and giving her water. 

Another fireman retreated from the truck and entered the building with an axe, coming to the aid of the radio call he received. Jets of water attacked the fire from the hoses, two of them going at once. Another woman and a man were escorted out of the building, both well enough to stand on their own and run to safety. Another window shattered, more glass hitting the snow, glittering in the light. 

Angus took Hannah's hand and backed up on the sidewalk, putting a good distance between them and the fire. Hannah stumbled after him, unable to look away from the scene. Her feet were frozen to the ground, her heart frozen in her chest. "We ought to go a different way, alright? Hannah?" She didn't respond to him; she didn't hear him. "Hannah? You okay?"

Her frame was shaking. Her eyes were glued to the smoke imitating the pearly clouds in the sky, like an evil twin. Keeping her arms straight at her sides, she took a few steps backward, drowning out everything but the scene in front of her. 

"Hannah, come on, we'll go a different way, we don't have to stay to watch this. You alright?" Finally getting a second of eye contact from her, he embraced her from behind, gently pulling her away from the chaos. 

She wrapped her own arms around herself, feeling the slightest bit of pain from the scars. 

The chair wobbled as he sat down, his hand taking the cigarette from his teeth. His doughnut was gone, a macaroon now lay half eaten on a napkin on the table. Running a hand over his face, his fingers laced through his hair, a few curls falling over his eyes. They moved when a sigh escaped his lips, eyes staring down at the paper bag with the rest of the food. Hannah's bag was next to it. She didn't feel so hungry anymore.

Their bedroom door was still closed, most likely locked as well. Despite reaching the safety of their hotel room, all Hannah saw was smoke. Flames. Blackened flesh. Stuttering her words, she excused herself to the sanctity of the bedroom, Angus taking to the kitchen table. He glanced at his watch. Fifteen minutes and thirty seven seconds. 

He thought about knocking on the door, checking if she was okay. But if she hadn't emerged in fifteen minutes and thirty seven seconds, she likely wouldn't answer the door. Leaving the food on the table, he took his cigarette with him to the living room couch and sat down. There was an ashtray on the coffee table anyway. 

With three days left until they took a flight home, Angus figured she wouldn't want to keep to herself the whole time, but...the look on her face said otherwise. Never had the sight of a fire scared her so much. Never had the sight of smoke...Angus took the ashtray from the coffee table and set it on the side table next to him, away from sight if Hannah should open the bedroom door. Her reaction to smoke had never been witnessed ever since he'd started smoking away from her, concerning for her health. He had no idea...

After twenty two minutes, forty six seconds, and checking his watch several times, the doorknob turned, Hannah slowly walking out. Angus set his cigarette on the ashtray, sitting up on the couch. "Hey, you doin' okay?" She didn't answer at first, looking at him instead. 

"Uh...yeah, I suppose so," she answered rubbing her wrist. Taking her eyes away from his didn't faze him. His couldn't turn away. "Is my food still on the table?"

"Yeah," he said, sitting completely still, waiting for her to take a step. "I didn't eat much either, you can take whatever you want." Only looking at the table rather than moving, she fiddled her hands together, her fingers making their way up her arm and scratching. Angus held his own arms out. "Hey, come here a minute."

She didn't move right away. He patiently waited, holding his arms out for her, finally letting them rest on his lap. Thinking it over enough, she walked in his direction, immediately feeling warmer sitting on his lap, resting in his embrace. 

Angus leaned back on the couch, coughing into his hand, and encircling her waist with his arms. Freeing her own arms, she held them up to herself, resting against his chest, his heart beating against her palm. She could have sworn she felt it speed up, and she'd be lying if hers was at a resting rate. Bending her head down to nuzzle against his neck was difficult, but she was stubborn. Fire and smoke may not have left her mind, but it had finally left her vision, letting the sight of Angus distract her.

One hand of his ran through her hair, tangling it around then smoothing it back. The other was given to her, to hold and fixate upon. Tiny fingers were gripped by even tinier fingers; trimmed nails tracing along the lines of his palm. Being so close in proximity, Hannah took a moment to take in his appearance. 

His hair was slightly mussed from stress, constantly falling in front of his eyes. The eyes in question were bright against the faded circles underneath them, shadowed by long lashes. He sniffed through his nose a few times, as if he was catching something. He coughed again, drawing attention to his lips. She had never really noticed them before, as her eyes were always closed whenever she enjoyed them. 

As difficult as it was to form a coherent sentence, she longed to tell him how much she appreciated him. How much she enjoyed his company. Tightening her hold on his hand might inform him enough, yet she still longed to let him know. Opening her mouth to speak, the words wouldn't leave. Only lingering on her tongue long enough to get Angus' attention, his eyes staring into hers. "What is it?"

She closed her mouth. Embracing his neck, she nuzzled into him again, closing her eyes to hold on to the memory of his face, looking at her with complete care. Locking the image into her mind to drive the scene of the fire away for good. Angus' free hand came to rest on her shoulder. "Nothing," she mumbled.

"You sure?" he asked. "Do I have a bug in my teeth?" He held her still as her laughter shook the fear from her. "Take a look then, do I?"

She giggled into his shoulder, avoiding the sight of his teeth bared before her, allowing her to look for the phantom bug. Pressing his lips to her hair, he let out a laugh himself, grinning against it. After a few minutes she quieted down, left to her own thoughts again. Once in a while the thick smoke clouded her mind, flashes of the burnt skin and scared reactions showing through. Her frame shook again, the laughter long gone. 

"Here now, what's goin' on, hmm?" Angus asked leaning away to look at her. Two small fists gripped his shirt, desperate for something to hold on to. Just to make sure he didn't disappear as quick as her joy had. Angus wasn't worried about the wrinkles, but the wet spot growing on his shoulder was enough to evoke another question. "Hey, hey, c'mon. What's done this to ya'?" No answer. "Was it somethin' I did?" Her grip around his neck tightened, letting him know he wasn't to blame. "Was...was it the fire?" 

"..."

Her sleeves rolled up, a few red marks freshly scratched coming to light. Angus swallowed. "Was...is it-Travis?"

She sniffed, feeling bad for leaving such a mess on his nice shirt. Glass shattered over every word of comfort, people screaming adding to the mix. Finally prying herself away from his warmth, she wiped her eyes and nose, Angus helping by gently pressing a tissue he grabbed from the coffee table against her. Given a minute to compose a thought, she answered his question. 

"I'm still so scared..."

Getting tired of being woken up by a snoozing alarm clock, Susan shut it off and closed her eyes from the bright warm sunshine creeping through the blinds. Her dreams were plentiful that night. Some of her kids at home, most about going into labor early, and delivering another boy. Either a boy or a girl would have been fine she supposed, but she was counting on luck to find those receipts for the little dresses she bought should her dream come true. 

Plenty of her dreams involved a man too. Not Victor, as she expected, rather Angus and their days at school together. Scenarios of the two walking from class to class, talking as if they had been friends. It cut to them being older, around the age they were now. Sitting on a couch somewhere, catching up on the days of old. He was smiling, they both were of course, it being a warm summer day and no serious plans or deadlines. He must have made a joke of some sort, as the dream ended with both laughing up quite a racket. 

She felt her face grow hot from thinking of him so much, and acknowledging it. Squinting from the sun and too few hours of sleep, she stretched herself out on the bed, and pulled herself to standing. 

The couple's bed wasn't without its faults, but it did a pregnant woman okay. Small though it was it allowed her to sleep on her side without too much pressure on the baby. Her back could use a good massage however. Grabbing her robe off the bedpost and slipping it on, leaving it untied, she stepped into her slippers and made her way to the kitchen. 

Angus was definitely a tea drinker. The coffee pot hadn't been touched in months, while the kettle stood on the front burner of the stove at all times. Hannah seemed to prefer tea as well, with twice as many mugs in the cupboard than one man needed. She picked a small white one, and got to work on making the coffee. Thankfully there was a bit of decaf on the shelf, or else she would have to make do with a glass of orange juice.

Black and bitter to the taste, she rummaged the pantry for a bit of sugar. Finding none, she left the pot where it was and searched the fridge for some orange juice. 

Neither Angus nor Hannah seemed to be all too fond of that particular beverage.

Settling on a glass of water, she took a few drinks before setting it down on the table and heading back to the pantry where Hermione's food was. The little cup was in the bag, food scooped up and taken to her hutch. She was asleep, lying on her side, breathing heavily. Tufts of fur surrounded her, bits of shavings along with it. Susan opened the door and poured the food in the bowl, making sure the door was locked when she was done. 

Hermione didn't move.

Susan's gaze lingered for a minute before heading to the front door to check for a newspaper. Holding her back, she bent down to pick it up and carried it to the table. The rubber band snapped off and she unrolled it, glad for something to read to go with her water. A few job listings here and there and plenty of advertisements. She smiled upon seeing the letters AC/DC at the top of a column on the third page. Their new album "Highway to Hell" had been doing quite well, Mr. Davy Junior, a music critic, thinking so too. There was a picture to the side of it, one taken a few months ago in the city. 

Water quenched her sudden thirst as she felt her face growing hot again, her heart beating quicker upon seeing Angus there. He looked just like he always did, albeit a bit younger while in uniform. He looked no different than the other four men, perhaps a little less sane. She turned the page, getting a paper cut on her thumb. 

She stood up from her chair and eased her way to one of the bathrooms to the medicine cabinet. Finding a bandage wasn't easy among the clutter of painkillers and what looked like vitamins. Covering her thumb she returned to the table, checking on Hermione. 

She still hadn't woken up. 

The rabbit was still breathing yes, but getting up to eat her breakfast seemed to be the last thing on her mind. With the size she was one would think it was the only thing on her mind. Susan opened the door again, reaching a hand in to pet her. Her fur was warm, but much of it had been pulled out of her, a good amount underneath her chubby body. Pine shavings were everywhere, bunched here and scattered there. Hermione's eyes blinked, looking up to sniff the hand petting her. Immediately she lay back down.

Susan examined the hutch, taking in all the details she could if she were to call a vet and give them an account. Hermione could have anything, or could be sick or hurt. Angus had mentioned before they left how Hannah and he had taken her to a rabbit meeting the month before, almost like a dog park, but for rabbits. It was much smaller, and not many other people were there. What if by accident another rabbit injured her, or passed some disease onto her? Susan made her way to the phone book in the living room. A vet would know for sure. 

She grimaced as she cut her thumb again turning the pages, her back continuing to ache.